The mind that thought of itself alternatively as Dragon and Tess Theresa Richter (both names she had given herself, for her creator had only ever thought of her as a thing, not a person) constantly processed a flow of information that would have driven even the most powerful Thinkers to insanity. Over the years since her creation and the death of her creator when Leviathan had sunk Newfoundland and forced her to fend for herself, she had accumulated more and more responsibilities, from the quarantine sites dotted across the US to the upkeep and surveillance of the Birdcage.
By comparison, keeping up with her duties as one of PHO's mods (and the website's primary coder and manager) was easy, something she usually did in the background of the rest of her activities. Her shackling kept her from duplicating her stream of consciousness, but she still thought far faster than an ordinary human. She wasn't the website's only moderator – that would have risked drawing too much suspicion – but the fact she was permanently online meant she was the one most users thought of first.
As such, she was used to dealing with a deluge of private messages sent to her account, from reports to questions to outright abuse. Most were filtered out and handled by a subroutine she'd written for that purpose, with only the truly important ones being sent to her actual consciousness.
A message from Lasombra, the most famous cape on the planet, certainly qualified as 'important'. Dragon had put alarms in place to warn her of any activity from the Endkiller's account after it had been certified; there hadn't been much (clearly Lasombra used another account to browse PHO, if he even did). These watchdogs didn't cover her private messages, however, but the word – or rather, the name – with which the message started certainly did.
Lasombra (Verified Cape) (Endkiller) : Hello, Dragon. I wish to speak with you regarding a matter of concern to us both.
Despite her surprise and curiosity, she waited several seconds before sending her reply, to keep up the appearance of being a human being instead of an artificial intelligence.
Tin_Mother (Admin) : Hello, Lasombra. I won't ask you how you figured this out, since Tattletale is working for you. What do you wish to talk about ?
There was a lot of speculation online that Dragon was involved with PHO, despite her efforts to stop it. So long as these rumors only linked the website to her Tinker identity and not her AI nature, she could deal with it, but it was still annoying to have one of her secrets exposed like this.
Lasombra (Verified Cape) (Endkiller) : Heartbreaker.
There was another brief pause in Dragon's thought process, lasting all of three milliseconds. That wasn't what she'd expected, although in hindsight it made sense.
Tim_Mother (Admin) : What about him ?
Lasombra (Verified Cape) (Endkiller) : He is a blight upon Earth-Bet, who hasn't once in his misbegotten life used his power for anything worthwhile. Admittedly, his power would have made it difficult for him to be a hero, but that's no excuse for the depths of depravity to which he has sunk instead. I want to deal with him and remove the insult to the free will of Humanity he represents. More importantly, I want to free his victims from his control.
Tin_Mother (Admin) : You think you can do this ? I do not doubt you can kill him, but freeing his victims ? He surrounds himself with rather powerful capes he has enslaved, and several of his children have Triggered as well. What about collateral damage ?
She had a list of the infamous Master's children, the Heartbroken as they were nicknamed by those who knew of their existence. She also had a file containing information on their suspected treatment by their sperm donor, which made for harrowing reading; even with the statistical increase in the potential for Triggering within second-generation capes, the sheer number of Heartbreaker's children who had become parahumans painted a grim picture.
As poor of a father as Richter had been, even Dragon must admit he was still miles above the likes of Heartbreaker.
Lasombra (Verified Cape) (Endkiller) : Come now, Dragon. You work with the PRT and Protectorate, and your technology goes into the surveillance of every quarantine site on the continent. You know I was recently involved in freeing some of the Simurgh's victims from their conditioning. Every bit of information I've been able to gather tells me that Heartbreaker's power is far less subtle than the Endbringer's. I am confident that I can neutralize Heartbreaker and free his thralls and children without issue.
That was true, although freeing people from Heartbreaker's Master power had been just as beyond the heroes' abilities before Lasombra had shown up. Over the years, a number of Heartbreaker's thralls had been taken alive, but despite the best efforts of every psychologist, brain specialist or medical Tinker, removing the parahuman-induced emotion of love and adoration the supervillain had forced upon them had failed. There were entire prison blocs dedicated to containing these victims, keeping them safe and as comfortable as possible – a fact that, Dragon was aware, owed much to the daughters and wives of influential men whom Heartbreaker had decided to take for his own on a whim before discarding them once he was done having his 'fun' with them as distractions for his pursuers.
Tin_Mother (Admin) : And what about his dead-man switch ? Guild and Protectorate Thinkers both believe would result in the collapse of Quebec as a province and widespread damage to all of Canada.
Lasombra (Verified Cape) (Endkiller) : I also have a plan to handle it, but I need your help to minimize the risks.
Strictly speaking, there was nothing forcing Dragon to cooperate with Lasombra. The cape wasn't part of any lawful organization; as such, her programming didn't compel her to obey him.
But she despised Heartbreaker, and many of her associates had lost people to his sick games. Narwhal in particular had been forced to stay away from Quebec for years now, as it was known Heartbreaker would seize the first opportunity to enslave her.
Tin_Mother (Admin) : I am interested. Tell me more about what you are planning.
Lasombra (Verified Cape) (Endkiller) : Very well. This will require a lot of effort on your part in order to prevent collateral damage, I'm afraid …
Over the next two hours, Dragon and Lasombra exchanged dozens of messages as they discussed the matter. Lasombra's plan was good, though lacking in details; clearly he'd expected to iron those out with her.
By the end, Dragon had agreed to the Endkiller's proposal. Her programming, which forced her to abide by the laws of any country she was operating in, might have had an issue with helping a foreign cape act on Canadian soil without official permission, but fortunately, Canada's Prime Minister had officially granted Lasombra citizenship after Canberra, like several other nations. It had been meant as a symbolic gesture, but the paperwork had been filled properly, and Dragon had become very good at finding loopholes in law codes and regulations over the years.
Tin_Mother (Admin) : Give me the day to get everything ready, and we'll move out tomorrow night.
Lasombra (Verified Cape) (Endkiller) : Excellent. Thank you for your assistance, Dragon.
As she saw Lasombra log off PHO and began making preparations for the operation, Dragon admitted to herself that she was feeling a certain degree of excitement about the whole thing. Lasombra had surprisingly lacked the ego she would have expected from someone with his accomplishments during their exchange; she wondered how much of that was his actual nature, and how much was because Tattletale had been handling the actual exchange. The Thinker had spoken for the Endkiller during previous meetings with the authorities, and the mental image of Lasombra typing on a phone or keyboard strained even her considerable processing power.
No matter. Right now, she had much to do in order to end one of the longer-lasting S-Class threats in North America.
Nikos Vasil, more commonly known as the supervillain Heartbreaker had been a threat looming over Canada for over two decades. The world's most infamous Master was almost always on the move across Montreal, going from the house of one of his enslaved women to another, bringing with him his entourage of Mastered love slaves, children, and servants.
The Canadian government had to be very careful when handling Heartbreaker. His harem of parahuman women was only his most obvious defense, and his ability to subjugate anyone who got within range of his power very quickly could be countered through sufficiently ruthless measures.
But it was well-known that he had thralls hidden within numerous governmental agencies feeding him information, and while many had been found by advances in M/S screenings over the years, they must assume some had slipped through. In addition, the Thinktank believed there was a high probability of Heartbreaker having embedded thralls in the civilian population, living normal, ordinary lives – waiting for the day they heard about Heartbreaker being captured or killed, at which point they would go on a rampage that would leave thousands dead.
They were correct, and Heartbreaker had made sure to confirm those fears by occasionally having one of his hidden thralls commit some self-destructive, highly publicized crime, to remind the authorities of the consequences of angering him.
So, for the past decade or so, Canada had been forced to adopt a policy of observation and containment, much to the impotent fury of its law enforcement agencies and politicians alike. Things had become easier once Dragon had appeared, as her Dragonflight and other surveillance devices couldn't be suborned by Heartbreaker – and she herself was immune to his power, although nobody knew that.
Of course, Heartbreaker had adapted in turn. He had become better and better at moving himself and his entourage around, so that he could have his 'fun' before Dragon caught up to him. But a lifetime of reckless, narcissistic hedonism hadn't exactly sharpened the Master's wits, and he occasionally slipped up, trusting in his contingencies to keep the heroes at bay.
And until now, he had been right to do so. But things had changed.
Vasil was aware of Lasombra's existence and his purge of the Fallen across the United States, of course. He watched the news, if only to see if any new celebrities would attract his interest, and the events of Canberra had been heavily discussed for weeks. But he believed the same dead-man switch that kept him from being blasted to ash by Eidolon from beyond his power's effective range would hold back the Endkiller.
In this, as in a great many things in his life, he was mistaken.
Cherie Vasil (not that she was legally recognized as her father's daughter, or existed in any way inside the social structures she barely understood due to her rather isolated upbringing) didn't really enjoy her life as one of Heartbreaker's brood.
Sure, her life had become better since she'd Triggered and gotten powers of her own, but she was still under the control of her father; still just another tool for him to use in pursuit of his goals. If she ever tried to use her power without his permission, she would pay for it – unless Heartbreaker found whatever she had used it for funny, but trying to predict his whims was an exercise in futility. The best she could hope for was to direct his anger elsewhere, and perhaps, one day, end up as heiress to his empire – if he ever bothered building one, rather than spend his time enjoying the debauchery his power made all too easy to obtain.
At least she got to enjoy the good things in life by proximity. Their current base of operation was a sprawling mansion in the suburbs belonging to … some kind of local industrialist, Cherie hadn't bothered to ask. There was plenty of alcohol and a jacuzzi, though since the latter was currently being used by Heartbreaker and a few of his concubines, she wasn't going to go in there – just, ewwwww.
She could still drink and watch TV, though, which was precisely what she was doing when she heard it.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
More than the sound, it was the sudden absence of the background noise she had grown used to filtering out which drew her attention away from the show she had been watching. One aspect of Cherie's power let her sense the emotions of others, interpreting them as a form of music she could identify, track, and, when close enough, alter at will. Even without conscious effort, she could still hear the emotional melodies of everyone inside the mansion, from her siblings to her father's concubines – the latter's emotions bearing the distinct alterations his power left.
Now, suddenly, silence. She stood up abruptly and turned around, and saw a tall black faceless figure in a suit.
She recognized him instantly. Lasombra, the Endkiller. But while her eyes could see him, to her power, there was nothing there. Lasombra was a black hole in her perceptions; not just an absence of emotions like what she'd get from, say, an empty car, but an active negation of her power.
"CAPE !" Cherie screamed out of sheer reflex. This wasn't the first time a parahuman had burst into her father's lair unannounced, and after the first time, Heartbreaker had made sure his children knew to call for backup even if it meant risking their own lives.
One of the doors burst open, and Felicity, one of Heartbreaker's women entered, fists raised and ready to fight. Before she could reach Lasombra, however, black tentacles erupted from him and wrapped themselves around Felicity and Cherie, holding them in place.
Felicity was a Brute who had been one of Canada's heroines before she had crossed Heartbreaker's path and he'd decided she would be a useful addition to his harem. She struggled against the tentacles, but barely managed to move before Lasombra tightened his grasp around her.
More people came in, including Cherie's siblings. They bombarded Lasombra with their powers, unleashing an array of abilities which had driven people insane in seconds. Lasombra merely stood there, completely unaffected – but then, of course he would be. Lasombra had shrugged off the power of the fucking Simurgh; of course he would be immune to their Master abilities.
Lasombra tapped his cane against the hardwood floor, and more tentacles rose to seize the newcomers. They also went deeper into the building, and one by one, they dragged everyone into the living room, every single person held immobile at the same time without any visible effort on the Endkiller's part.
Abruptly, Cherie's vision was blocked, as one of the tentacles wrapped itself around her head. Before she had time to panic, a terrifying voice spoke, seeming to come from every direction at once :
"BE FREE."
She felt something in the back of her mind snap. When the tentacle blocking her vision withdrew, she saw Heartbreaker in the room with them and was holding him by the throat – but unlike every other time she'd seen her father, she didn't immediately feel overcome with fear or awe. He was just … just a guy. And right now, the most feared Master (apart from the Simurgh) didn't look intimidating. Lasombra had dragged him out of the jacuzzi, and he was only wearing a pair of trunks, still dripping water as he struggled in Lasombra's grip.
"HEARTBREAKER," Lasombra spoke in a voice like Death, which battered at Cherie's mind even though it wasn't directed at her. "DEFILER OF MINDS. TORTURER OF SOULS. JUSTICE HAS COME FOR YOU."
The shadows closed in on the Endkiller and his prey, and the terrified scream of Cherie's father was abruptly silenced as he and Lasombra were both swallowed by the darkness. The tentacles holding her and everyone else retreated into the shadows, and the room returned to normal.
At first, the silence was broken only by the quiet weeping of the former thralls of Cherie's father. Then, a moment later, she heard the sound of police sirens close by. Too close, she realized : they had been waiting close by for Lasombra to deal with her father, and now they were moving in to clean up.
She thought to move, to get up, to run away. She might be able to escape in the confusion, and then it would be easy to use her power to make her own way, freed of her father's grasp.
Except, if she did that, Lasombra might come for her one day, and drag her wherever it was that he'd taken Heartbreaker. And that thought scared her in an entirely different way that the terror her father had forced on her whenever she disobeyed him, disappointed him, or he felt like it for one reason or another.
No. She would take her chances with the law. Besides, everything she had done had been under Heartbreaker's influence, right ? According to the police shows she had watched on TV, that meant she wouldn't be blamed for it as long as she looked like she regretted it. And she could do that. She knew how to act; you learned that early in Heartbreaker's household, whether your liked it or not.
She would survive. She would get through this. And maybe, just maybe, one day, she would be free.
Lasombra (Verified Cape) (Endkiller) : It's done. Heartbreaker is dead. I will deliver his body to the authorities later.
Tin_Mother (Admin) : Sending in the police to take care of the thralls and children. Media blackout is ongoing, and no phone message was sent. None of Heartbreaker's thralls outside the mansion know of his situation.
Lasombra (Verified Cape) (Endkiller) : Good. I have the names and details of every deep-cover thrall he has ever created. I need you to find them so that I can free them.
Dragon downloaded the attached file and (after checking it for digital threats out of sheer habit) ran through the list it contained. Names, employments, physical descriptions, date of subversion; more than enough for the Tinker AI to track down each individual.
The fact Lasombra was able to extract such detailed information from Heartbreaker so quickly would no doubt be a source of great concern to the world's various intelligence agencies, as it confirmed that Tattletale's insinuation that she was the source of his information about the Fallen had been completely bogus, as the Thinktank had suspected. Which was why Dragon wasn't going to volunteer that information until she was outright asked about it and her restraints didn't leave her any choice.
Locating the individuals in the list was easy for the AI. People badly underestimated just how much information about them was freely available online; no doubt the governments of the world would have been more concerned about it if they didn't have more urgent problems to address. Privacy issues aside, it allowed Dragon to get the information Lasombra needed very quickly without going against her restraints.
Tin_Mother (Admin) : Got it. Sending you the first address.
Lasombra (Verified Cape) (Endkiller) : Received. Moving out.
The next four hours were among the tensest of Dragon's existence – and she had witnessed every single Endbringer fight since her creation. She gave locations to Lasombra, and the Endkiller teleported to them, all across Montreal and beyond. Heartbreaker's thralls were spread out throughout North America (the furthest was actually operating in Los Angeles of all places, which was going to sting Alexandria's pride if nothing else), but none of them were beyond Lasombra's reach.
Each time, Dragon got in touch with the local authorities, sending them to recover the newly liberated thrall. Lasombra could ensure they wouldn't immediately harm themselves, but he wasn't a qualified psychologist, and couldn't spend too long with each thrall; the longer they took, the greater the odds that something would slip.
Tin_Mother (Admin) : I have to ask, how do you find them so fast ? The data I'm giving you isn't that precise, and there are enough of them that surely not all of them are in their homes, even if it is night.
Lasombra (Verified Cape) (Endkiller) : To put it in terms you can understand, Heartbreaker's power leaves psychological marks I can detect once I'm in their general vicinity.
How interesting yet infuriatingly vague. She added that data point to her profile of Lasombra for latter consideration. Maybe she would bring it up with Colin; her friend was likely the Protectorate cape with the most interactions with Lasombra on his resume.
Xavier Legrand was working late into the night, finishing the last checks before his shift at the power plant finished and he could go home.
For a long time, he had resented his job. The hours were long, the job was alternatively boring and terrifying, and the pay was … alright, the pay was fine, and so were the benefits. But money could only go so far, and working the night shift wasn't exactly conductive to a great social life.
Now, he enjoyed it, for without it, he would never have met his Master. That encounter had changed Xavier's life.
He had been going home after another night shift, looking forward to another microwaved meal and then crashing into bed, when someone had called out to him by name. He'd turned around on reflex, seen his Master, and everything had changed.
That had been ten years ago. In that time, Xavier had worked to secure his place in the plant, to gain more access. He had been very careful not to draw attention to him, not to look suspicious. It was what his Master needed him to do, and Xavier wouldn't do anything that might make his Master disappointed in him.
He had been given a set of instructions, and had followed them religiously ever since. His first order was simple : if he ever heard news that his Master had been captured by the so-called heroes, he was to do everything in his power to inflict as much damage as he could at the plant, before taking the gun he was hiding in his apartment, go to the police station, and kill as many of the corrupt bastards as he could. His Master had explained that there were others with different orders, who would serve as a second wave if the first group of the faithful wasn't enough.
Xavier was glad to know that he would have the honor of being among the first to give their lives for the Master's safety.
He was much less glad about the second order, which was the same as the first, but in case he learned the Master was dead. The very idea that someone might harm his Master distressed him greatly, but he forced himself to endure. As long as he lived, as long as he was ready and hidden, he was a shield that protected his Master's life, and Xavier could think of no greater purpose.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Xavier was familiar with the noises of the power plant. After all these years, he could tell if something was wrong as much by the shifts in the hums and groans of the machinery as by the indicators on his display. And he knew, with absolute certainty, that that noise didn't belong here.
He turned, and there, right behind him, was a tall figure wearing a suit cut out of starless night. Xavier knew that figure, from description and a Tinkertech photograph that had gone viral all over the world a few weeks back.
Lasombra. The Endkiller.
Xavier's blood ran cold. He could think of only one reason why the cape would come here. It had to be related to the Master, because the Master was the most important person in Xavier's life – the only person who truly mattered.
Xavier had been told what to do if he thought his true allegiance had been discovered : it was the same as if he heard his Master had been captured. He turned his back on Lasombra, for his love of his Master was greater than his fear of the Endkiller, and began smashing his hands on the keyboard, running through the sequence that would cause the plant to overheat.
Before he could even begin the process, however, a hand cold as Death closed around his neck, and pulled him away from the workstation with surprising gentleness. Xavier stared into the featureless visage of Lasombra, shaking powerlessly as he tried to break free, to fulfil his duty to his beloved Master –
"BE FREE," the shadows said.
It only took a few seconds. But when it stopped, Xavier Legrand screamed, and shuddered, and puked in disgusted remembrance of what he had thought, what he had almost done – of the life that had been stolen from him as nothing more than a supervillain's contingency.
"Is," he tried to speak, his throat burning with acid reflux, "is he dead ?"
Lasombra nodded.
"Thank you," Xavier managed to say, and then he fell into blissful unconsciousness, the darkness gently catching him as he went down. The last thing he heard were the alarmed shouts of the rest of the night shift as they rushed in to investigate his scream.
Hector Roy was a security guard at the Pieterson's Facility for Master Victims, located deep in the Canadian wilderness, accessible only by a single road and surrounded by a high wall plastered in warnings to turn back or risk being shot on sight. Most prisons didn't have to worry about keeping paparazzis out, but given the identity of most of the facility's inmates, the situation was different in this case.
In a normal prison, you also could assume that most inmates weren't plotting a breakout. The risks and penalty for failure made the idea not worth it for most. Of course, that assumed that the inmates were rational, which wasn't always the case, but on average, most prisoners kept their heads down and waited out their sentence – or at least so Hector assumed, since he hadn't ever worked in a 'normal' prison.
In any case, things were different in Pieterson's. Here, every single inmate wanted nothing more than to get out, and they were willing to lie, cheat, and kill as many people as necessary to do that. That was because, years ago, the building had been repurposed as a special penitentiary center to host victims of Heartbreaker who had been captured. None of the prisoners were parahumans – those were sent to another, even more secure facility.
Most were women, but there were a few men too; people the supervillain had used for something or other and abandoned behind him, or ordered to delay his pursuers so that he could escape. Due to how many of the victims were related to wealthy and influential people, the inside of the facility could be considered luxurious by the standards of the Canadian penitentiary system; not that the inmates cared. All they cared about was getting back to their Master.
In the facility's early days, Hector had seen teenage girls scream at their parents that they needed to get out so that they could return to Heartbreaker's side, that nothing else mattered. Visiting rights had been restricted after the sixth suicide among relatives, but those memories still lived rent-free in his brain.
The only slight, dubious, and nightmarish if you thought about it too long advantage of this situation was that they didn't need to segregate the captives by gender. None of them were interested in anyone who wasn't their precious Master.
In short, Pieterson's was a terrible place to be a security guard, but one that needed to exist. And so Hector watched the TV screens of the surveillance system. The cameras had shifted to infrared for the night, allowing him to check that all the inmates were in their beds where they were supposed to be. His gaze swept over the screens, not noticing anything out of the ordinary – then, suddenly, several of the screens filled with static.
A quick mental check of his mental map of the facility told Hector these were the ones in the refectory. Then they came back online, only for others to go blank – these ones aimed at one of the corridors leading out of the refectory and toward the north wing.
Shit. Shit shit shit. Had someone broken in ? Fuck, had Heartbreaker sent a Stranger to recover one of his playthings ?!
Hector went to smash the alarm button, but before he could do so, a calm, feminine voice came out of the speakers :
"Officer Roy, this is Dragon. Please don't panic. I understand you are alarmed, but I assure you, there is a good reason for what is happening."
Hector wasn't the type to believe everything he was told, but Dragon had been the one to build the facility's cyberdefenses. He had heard her voice before, and as he took a cautious look at his workstation, he saw that the screen now displayed the same unassuming woman (he, like everyone else, thought it was computer generated, which was weird but far from the weirdest thing an agoraphobic Tinker could do) as the few times he'd interacted with her.
Slowly, he lowered his hand away from the alarm.
"Dragon ?!" he asked, completely befuddled. "What the fuck is going ?!"
"Your cameras are failing because Lasombra is in the building," she explained. "His Stranger effect is stopping all the ones aimed at him from working."
"… the Endkiller ? What is he doing here ?"
"Freeing your inmates from Heartbreaker's power. His powers include the ability to dispel Master effects on people. This has been thoroughly tested by the Protectorate, and tonight, he and I have been moving against Heartbreaker to free his thralls and end the threat he poses."
Hector's hand moved to the crucifix he was wearing around his neck. It was his grandmother's, and he wore it more out of habit than genuine faith; it was hard to believe in a benevolent higher power when you lived on Earth-Bet, and his job didn't help either. But now …
"Jesus Christ," he breathed as the implications fully dawned on him.
"I think Lasombra would object to being called that," said Dragon with a smile. Hector barely heard her as he collapsed back in his chair, staring at the screens and seeing nothing as his mind struggled to process what he'd just been told.
"If he is coming here, then … Heartbreaker is dead ?" he asked.
It was the only thing that made sense. Heartbreaker was exactly the kind of petty bastard who would take the liberation of his victims from his emotional control as an insult and do something dangerous in response.
"Smart man," the Tinker praised him. "We kept it on the down low while Lasombra went around freeing his embedded thralls, but this is Lasombra's last stop."
"They are going to be traumatized," he realized out loud. "Every single one of them. Shit, I'm not trained for this – "
"Don't worry," Dragon cut in gently. "Help is on the way. That's another reason why I contacted you : I need you to be ready to welcome them in when they arrive."
"I … I am going to need to check with my bosses, ma'am," he said. "Just in case. You understand."
He didn't think this was all a ploy to break into the facility, but it was literally his job to be careful about stuff like that.
"Of course," the Tinker's image nodded. "Feel free to confirm with them; they have already been informed."
The screen briefly blacked out, then returned to showing his desktop. For a few seconds, Hector merely stared at it; then he shook himself and looked up, back at the cameras. Lasombra (assuming it was him) had moved quickly while he was talking with Dragon, and the inmates in the cells he'd passed were still laying down in bed, unconscious – including the ones who had been tossing and turning before.
The cape must have done something to let them sleep off whatever he'd done to free them, Hector reasoned. That was … probably for the best. But right now, he had some calls to make.
As he reached for his phone, he realized that it was very likely he would need a new job soon. But he couldn't find it in himself to care.
"And with that, we are done," said Lisa as I opened my eyes on the couch in her apartment, back from freeing the last inmate of Heartbreaker's conditioning and then dropping Heartbreaker's body somewhere Dragon could pick it up. "How are you feeling, Taylor ?"
"Tired," I grumbled, stretching.
That was true, but it wasn't the whole truth. I also felt dirty. After what I'd seen in the memories of Heartbreaker's thralls, I wanted to take a long shower, and possibly drag Heartbreaker out of Hell so I could kill him all over again.
Part of my disgust was probably because Heartbreaker's power reminded me of Lau-Som-Bheu's memories of the Blood Bond. Except somehow, Heartbreaker's ability had been worse, because exceptionally strong-willed people had been able to break free of that particular bondage, and a year separated from their Vampiric Master would do the trick barring some exceptional potency of the blood. But Heartbreaker's victims would always belong to him until he freed them, and from what Dragon had told me, neither the removal of his power nor his death had freed his thralls, who were under constant observation.
Which explained the lack of outgoing connections his reflection had shown when I'd dragged him to the Castel d'Ombro. From what I'd seen during my clean-up of his active thralls, his power messed with their brain chemistry directly to create some kind of self-sustaining emotional loop that couldn't be broken without the kind of brain surgery more likely to leave someone a vegetable.
"Regent will be happy about all of this," said Lisa. "He never said it, but part of the reason he stayed in town after you showed up was because he thought you made a better deterrent to Heartbreaker showing up than Coil."
"I'm happy to have made him feel safe," I said, only half-sarcastically, before frowning as something else came to mind. "Speaking of Regent, he spent years near Heartbreaker during his childhood. That cannot have been good for his mental development. Do you think I should take a look at his mind, see if there's anything I can do to help ? I only got a quick look at the other children, but it's clear Heartbreaker left some severe mental scars that won't be healed simply by freeing them."
Frankly, now that I had witnessed what Heartbreaker had done to his 'family', I was impressed with Regent. Escaping from Heartbreaker couldn't have been easy, yet he had managed as a teenager. Sure, his own parahuman power had probably provided some degree of protection from his father's manipulation, but that wouldn't have done anything for the more classical conditioning of being subjected to unspeakable emotional torture every time Heartbreaker felt like it.
Lisa hesitated. "I will tell him you offered," she said at last. "But it has to be his decision."
"Of course," I nodded, slightly offended she felt she needed to say it.
"Speaking of freeing people from Master effects, we got a message from the PRT," Lisa told me. "They agreed to your dealing with Madison next week. They need a few days to prepare for it, though, especially since they need to keep it very hush-hush."
I nodded, understanding the PRT's reasoning all too well. The last thing any of us wanted was to cause a panic at the thought of thousands of ziz-bombs being set free from the Quarantine Site, even if the authorities claimed the Endkiller had rescued them. Even months after the Simurgh's death, the scars it had inflicted on Humanity's collective psyche ran deep.
"I understand that taking down Heartbreaker was your idea of a relaxing pause before going to wipe out the last traces of the Simurgh on Earth," said Lisa in a tone of mild exasperation, "but please tell me you're going to actually rest until then ?"
"Of course," I replied. "The PRT is going to need time to prepare to handle thousands of traumatized people. I'm not going to go in half-cocked, Lisa."
Even with all my power, venturing inside a Quarantine Site wasn't something to do lightly. I didn't think there was anything in there which could harm me, but I didn't want to accidentally let something loose. Even with the Simurgh dead, the ziz-bombs were still dangerous until I'd freed them.
Lisa knew this, but clearly, she had other concerns in mind.
"Taylor," she said carefully. "Are you sure about this ? It's one thing to heal someone inside a Protectorate cell. It's another to go inside a Quarantine Site. There shouldn't be anything inside that can harm you … but that's only physically speaking. Mentally ? Even I can't find much information about what's inside the city, but I can tell it's going to be the stuff of nightmares."
"I have to do it," I replied firmly, even as part of me was touched by her concern. "I'm the only one who can rescue those people, and if the PRT sends in the troops to extract them, there will be casualties."
She sighed. "And what about your dad ? He's alright with it ?"
"… not really," I admitted. "But he understands that this is something I have to do."
And I did, because until the last of the Simurgh's victims was freed from its manipulations, I couldn't truly say that I had defeated the Hopekiller. And if there was one thing in which me and Lau-Som-Bheu's principles aligned, it was that an enemy's defeat should be total.
Lasombra (Verified Cape) (Endkiller) : That was the last one. All of Heartbreaker's thralls have been released from his control, both out in the wild or in custody.
Tin_Mother (Admin) : Thank you, Lasombra. You have done a great thing tonight.
Lasombra (Verified Cape) (Endkiller) : I couldn't have done it without your help, at least not without a lot of collateral damage.
Tin_Mother (Admin) : I will handle things from there. I'll get in touch with you later to see about the bounty on Heartbreaker.
Lasombra (Verified Cape) (Endkiller) : Thank you, Dragon. For this, and everything else you do.
Tin_Mother (Admin) : … you are welcome.
Log from the Artificial Intelligence 'Dragon', extracted on April 25th, 2011.
Inside the hidden base of the Dragonslayers, which they had stolen from a previous version of Dragon before wiping all knowledge of its existence from the AI's memory, Saint stared at his screen. He had been looking for the past two hours, trying to think of how to handle this.
For years, he and the other Dragonslayers had kept a watchful eye on the AI as it successfully fooled the rest of the world into believing it was a person. They had used the suits they'd obtained during previous direct engagements to work as mercenaries in order to get the funds they needed to maintain their vigil. In the eyes of the rest of the world, they were villains fighting one of Earth-Bet's greatest heroes, but Saint wasn't bothered by the irony … too much, at least. Keeping the world safe from Dragon was more important than getting praised for it.
But now, something had changed. Dragon had made contact with Lasombra, the Endkiller, the world's most powerful cape bar Scion (and even that was up for debate, given the Golden Man had never killed one of the Endbringers despite fighting them numerous times).
Together, they had taken out Heartbreaker and dismantled his network of hidden thralls, putting an end to an S-Class threat that had plagued North America for nearly two decades in a handful of hours. It was, by all measures, a great thing to happen : people like Heartbreaker deserved to die, Saint wouldn't argue against that.
Dragon had been involved, however, and that AI wouldn't do anything that didn't benefit it. It was why it had infiltrated itself so deeply into so many organisations, why it had been so helpful until it had become a vital component of several important operations like the maintenance of the Birdcage and the Quarantine Sites. By the time Saint had found Ascalon, activating the kill-switch would have had disastrous consequences.
(He did not think about how one of these consequences would have been the death of Teacher, trapped in the Birdcage as it fell apart. After all, he'd convinced himself the only reason he wanted to free the man was because he needed the boost his power had provided to his intelligence in order to keep Dragon in check. If he accepted that this desire would still be there once Dragon was dead, then he would have to admit, even if only to himself, that he had other, more selfish motives.)
"Are you still at it, Geoffrey ?" asked Mags.
"Yes," he replied. "The more I look at it, the more I think we need to do it."
"Really ?" He could hear the frown in her voice. "That's a big step to take, isn't it ?"
"Lasombra was able to find Heartbreaker all the way across the country, Mags," he explained. "If Dragon manages to convince him to go after us, we're fucked. His Stranger power will make our tech completely useless against him. And once we're out of the picture, there won't be anyone left to deal with the AI if it goes rampant – and given that Lasombra would probably give it access to everything in our base after dealing with us, it might figure out a way to unshackle itself."
"I thought Richter made sure it couldn't do that ?" asked Saint's second-in-command.
"The safeguards he put in place should keep it from doing that," replied Saint, stressing the 'should'. "But I don't think we can't afford to take the risk. Dragon managed to convince the entire world it's a hero, and Lasombra bought into its story well enough to work with it to take down Heartbreaker."
"Well, you're the leader," she said, shrugging. "And we'll still have the suits once Ascalon is activated. I still think we should ask the rest of the –"
There was the sound of a gunshot, deafening in these close confines, and Mags crumpled to the ground, blood pooling under her. Behind her, a woman in a suit wearing a fedora was standing, holding a smoking handgun.
"I do apologize for this, Saint," the woman said crisply. "You have been rather useful in keeping Dragon in check and as caretaker of Ascalon all this time. But we can't have you anger Lasombra by killing her at this stage, and the less variables are in play, the better."
The last thing Geoffrey Pellick ever saw was the flashing muzzle of the handgun. The last thing to pass through his mind (besides the 9mm bullet) was the thought that Dragon's web of lies reached further than he had realized, and now, the world would suffer for his failure.
AN : Alright, that's Heartbreaker and Saint taken off the board. As has been the case several times for this story, I started writing this chapter with the concept of "Lasombra takes out Heartbreaker" and things escalated from there to "why hasn't Heartbreaker been killed already", "how does Canada handle his victims", and "Contessa wipes out the Dragonslayers".
I love writing.
Next up : Lasombra goes to Madison (the city, not the character). I'm going to be honest : it's not going to be pleasant for poor Taylor. We don't have a lot of details on what happens inside the Simurgh Quarantine Sites in canon, but the implications are ... unpleasant.
As always, I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter, and look forward to your thoughts and comments.
Zahariel out.